


stars on our shoulders

by pfaerie



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alcohol, First Dates, First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pfaerie/pseuds/pfaerie
Summary: He can hear his mom chastising him for missing another sunset, but if she could see the man sitting in front of him now, he’s sure she’d understand.





	

**Author's Note:**

> kind of an addition to his romance path

Sunsets are an artificial construct for Scott. They’re nothing more than a simulated cycle on the holographic structure surrounding the Citadel Presidium all the way back in the Milky Way. It takes just under a minute for the fake blue sky to turn a dark navy, and he only knows that because Sara timed it when they were kids. Supposedly that’s how long a sunset takes on Sur’Kesh: forty-nine seconds. A real blink and you miss it.

At twenty-two, Scott Ryder can count the number of sunsets he’s seen on one hand. He’s just never made time between the Systems Alliance stint and uncovering Prothean technology and now the whole Andromeda Initiative. After all, sunsets are a daily occurrence. Millions of them happen every day. _There’s always tomorrow_ , he’d tell himself until there wasn’t.

 _Orange and gold and blue,_ Mom had said, nose crinkling a little as she tries to describe the Earth sunset to Scott and his sister. She tries to wave a hand, like she can will the golden color between pink and blue and lilac into the tiny white room, but the IV tube keeps her tethered. _You’ll just have to see it. Promise me you’ll see it._

There were promises to see the Grand Canyon and Mount Everest and Big Ben and New England in the fall, but Alec Ryder’s never been good at keeping promises. Scott supposes that’s where he learned it from. _We’ll all go see it when you’re better, Mom,_ Scott had said. Mom never got better. Sara and Dad half agreed going with him before embarking on the biggest, and only, intergalactic jump in history, but Earth was haunted with too many memories of a woman gone too soon. None of them ever made it back to Earth. Now none of them ever will.

The peach-colored Kadara sun stains the fluffy, rolling clouds shades of salmon and coral against the pastel lavender sky. Here, sunset takes a whopping three minutes, but nobody ever told Scott about how pretty the sky looked the whole half an hour before the sun kisses the horizon. It only took six-hundred years for him to find out himself. He figures this is as close as he’s ever going to get to an Earth sunset.

 _The only bottle of Mount Milgrom in Andromeda. Triple distilled and 645 years old._ It’s a human alcohol, something his dad used to drink because it reminded him of home, reminded him of a time before Ellen Ryder got sick. Scott stole a few shots worth when he was seventeen and feeling particularly rebellious.

He didn’t like it then and he doesn’t particularly like it now, but he likes the taste of Reyes lingering on the lip of the bottle when he takes another swig. The alcohol burns all the way down to his gut like the panic he swallowed right before he’d kissed Reyes in that closet. And the tingly warmth that courses through him to the tips of his fingers and toes as the alcohol hits feels like when Reyes kissed him back. It's a poor substitute for the real thing, but it's what he's got.

The sun sinks lower into a gap between a rock formation and Kralla’s Song and Scott wonders if that’s why Reyes chose this spot in particular. Pink clouds chase after it, rolling over one another in a fluffy stampede. “Why’d you come here, Reyes?” He passes the bottle back without looking and a thrill travels up his arm when Reyes’ fingers brush against his own.

There’s more than a beat of silence before he hears the slosh of whiskey and the clink of metal against teeth as Reyes takes a long pull. He hisses through the burn and still doesn’t answer and maybe the question was more loaded than he intended.

He wonders what Reyes was like back in the Milky Way, if he lived on Earth or Mars or Shanxi. Maybe they’d passed each other on the Citadel and never even knew it. He wants to ask how he ended up on the Nexus, what brought him to Andromeda in the first place, but then Reyes says, “to be someone,” and that’s a hell of a loaded answer.

Scott supposes he came to Andromeda for the same reason. In the Milky Way, Alec Ryder was an N7, an AI genius, and the only man crazy enough to suggest they jump to another galaxy. There’s a legacy to live up to and boots that are too big to fill, boots that Cora was supposed to fill when things went wrong in Andromeda.

Instead they get an inexperienced Pathfinder who makes seven-hundred year old pop culture references and has absolutely zero training. His only saving grace is that everybody else is just as lost as he is, so when he fucks up, nobody can really call him out on it. Except maybe SAM. Disgraced or not, Alec Ryder’s shadow stretches far, but at least it’s not intergalactic.

He decides it doesn’t really matter what Reyes was in the Milky Way. They can’t go back. Andromeda is a fresh start and isn’t that kind of the point? None of them are anything here.

And yet.

“You’re someone to me,” Scott finds himself saying. Reyes makes a noise halfway between a sigh and a laugh. It’s a bitter sound, but there’s something else there too that Scott can’t quite place. It makes Scott finally shift that ninety degrees so he’s connected to Reyes from shoulder to ankle.

Reyes’ profile is soft against the sky, a deep purple flecked with stars Scott still doesn’t know. He can’t tell if the pink staining Reyes’ face is a byproduct of the whiskey or the last rays of the setting sun, but the warm light suits him better than the shadows.

“You-” Reyes starts, but shakes his head and takes another drink. Scott can’t tear his eyes away from the flex of his throat until Reyes tips forward. His tongue darts out and slides against his lips. _Shena. It means mouth in angaran_.

Scott makes a move for the bottle, but Reyes sets it down just out of reach. The sun is setting behind Scott and only a sliver of sunlight illuminates Reyes’ eyes. He can hear his mom chastising him for missing another sunset, but if she could see the man sitting in front of him now, he’s sure she’d understand.

It burns when Reyes’ gloved hand touches his face, a trail of fire where his thumb traces over the line of his cheekbone. “I’m starting to think that kiss was more than a distraction.” For someone who’s job it is to keep secrets, Reyes sure does state the obvious a lot.

Reyes’ breath is like a furnace when he exhales, the puff of air hot on Scott’s chapped lips. It’s suffocating, reminds him of his first minute on Habitat-7. He supposes everything with Reyes has felt like that. Promises of something great, falling into the great unknown, cracking his head open on a rock. The tongue sliding into his mouth is new though.

Music thrums through the thick air, vibrates in his bones, or maybe that’s his pulse singing. The hand on his face slides down his neck, the leather sticking to the sheen of sweat there before moving to his chest. Scott doesn’t know if they kiss for a minute or an hour, but when he opens his eyes the sky's a deep royal purple and the only light is the fluorescents that line Kadara’s market below.

“Wasn’t there something about being a gentleman?” Reyes asks. His eyes stay level with Scott’s, searching.

“Yea,” Scott agrees. He doesn’t say Reyes blew being a gentleman when he ditched him at the party because that’s not what he’s really asking. He’s asking permission, giving Scott an out. “Don’t,” he says, tilting his head slightly as he presses their lips together again.

They manage to lie down and scoot towards the middle of the storage container they’re on, Scott half on top of Reyes as their mouths melt together. He gives a moan of encouragement when Reyes hikes his hoodie up a bit, likes the way the warm leather catches on his ribs. Scott can’t help but feel like a teenager fooling around with Shike in Citadel storage. He’s sensing a theme…

A breeze picks up and cool air ghosts over the strip of exposed skin around his hips. He can’t suppress the shiver and a whine escapes his throat when Reyes pulls away. He noses at Reyes’ jaw instead, presses his mouth to his pulse, relishes in the way Reyes laughs. Scott leans up on his elbows awkwardly, blinking slow.

“It’s getting cold,” Reyes points out, looking up at the sky. Scott doesn’t follow his gaze, too focussed on Reyes’ kiss bruised lips and how badly he wants to run his fingers through his stupidly perfect hair.

“So keep me warm.” He slides off Reyes’ chest and Reyes settles between his legs before pressing his whole body against him and _oh_ , _he’s really warm._ He brings a hand to Reyes’ cheek and doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Reyes turns his face to press a kiss to the soft skin on his wrist. He looks good with the night sky behind him, framed by stars like he belongs, and Scott internally rolls his eyes at how sappy the thought is.

They don’t do much. Scott’s nowhere near as voyeuristic as he pretends to be and neither is Reyes, but it’s still intense and...good isn’t the right word for it, but it’s the only word his brain can supply when Reyes is tearing him apart at the seams with his lips and teeth and tongue and yea. Shena might be the most accurate code name in history. All Scott can do it breathe out a quick warning as his toes curl, but if Reyes minds, he doesn’t show it.

When he tries to return the favor, Reyes bats his hands away and kisses him instead. He leads him so that they're both on their sides, and Scott stubbornly slides his knee between Reyes’ legs and presses up close to him. He swallows every little gasp and moan that escapes, kisses him like he’ll die if he stops and soon Reyes comes apart too, shoulders shaking and gripping Scott’s hips just a little too hard.

He keeps his eyes on Reyes’ face as he catches his breath, memorizes how his lips look slightly parted and slicked with spit. His heart skips a beat when Reyes looks at him through a veil thick lashes and laughs, turns his head into the metal surface below them and just...laughs. It's breathy and genuine. He has a dimple that Scott never noticed before.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing’s funny. You're just…” there’s a pause, like he can't think of what to say. It makes Scott uncomfortable, like he's being judged.

"You don't have to say it. I know. Just imagine how good I am in a real bed," Scott jokes. The best defense is complete emotional deflection! 

“No, just. I was serious about you making me want to be better.”

Scott’s response is automatic. “You’re better than you think you are.” Reyes just smiles a sad smile and kisses Scott again, feather light and chaste like they didn’t just fool around in open air, daring to be caught with their pants down-literally! Later, Reyes will say he liked the way Scott looked at him, like he was a sun and stars. Later, Scott will say he’s more than that.

**Author's Note:**

> they kind of...ruined my life...


End file.
